


Choking Bittersweet

by Lisa_Telramor



Series: Hanahaki DNAngel [2]
Category: D.N. Angel
Genre: Angst, Blood, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hanahaki Disease, Suicidal Thoughts, Unrequited Love, canon pairings - Freeform, with some comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisa_Telramor/pseuds/Lisa_Telramor
Summary: There are different ways to handle getting hanahaki; get a surgery, confess, or do nothing. Daisuke is one sort of person, Satoshi is a very different one when it comes to handling emotions.
Relationships: Hiwatari Satoshi/Niwa Daisuke
Series: Hanahaki DNAngel [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648198
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	Choking Bittersweet

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a bit of a mess tonally but I can't bring myself to fix it as I'm a mess right now and I know I'm probably not going to want to go back and edit it some day. So fic. Basically I was reading a couple hanahaki fic and couldn't get the image of Satoshi coughing up flower petals out of my head because of course my brain would go "oh, Satoshi's suffering! This would be even worse!!!" because brains be like that. I binge wrote the latter half of this due to 'vent emotions via writing' and it shows >_>
> 
> (Long story short, my cat died november, I adopted a new kitten end of January, and then found out I'm apparently now violently allergic to cats. Because that's just how life keeps going lately)

A month before his fourteenth birthday, Daisuke coughed up tiny white petals into his hands. It wasn’t a surprise really. He knew that someone who had an unrequited love could end up with hanahaki. It ran in the family too. His mother had told him stories about his father getting it over her, so sure that she wouldn’t love him in return, until he finally confessed. So it wasn’t as terrifying as it could have been. He knew that it wasn’t something that killed quickly, and it could be cured just by getting the emotions caught in his chest out in a confession to the girl he loved. He knew that just because it felt like he didn’t have a chance with Risa, it didn’t necessarily mean that she didn’t return his feelings. And if it came down to it, if she didn’t love him back, he’d have the resolution he needed to move on and let the flowers die on their own.

Daisuke didn’t panic when the flower petals grew in number or when the occasional clump of blossom heads were coughed out of his throat. He just wrote a confession letter and waited for the right moment to give it to her.

There wasn’t anything keeping him from doing otherwise.

He had more to gain than to lose. So he waited for his birthday. It seemed like the thing to do; fourteen had always been the family’s lucky number.

And when Risa turned him down? He cried and the petals withered on his tongue and he tried to move on. Because for Daisuke it had never been a thought that he’d die from something as avoidable as hanahaki.

o*O*o

The Hikari were cursed. Most would say it was a curse of hubris, to try to create life, to create beautiful things, those things took life from them. Others would call Krad the curse. Satoshi agreed with both of those things as horrible misfortunes of birth into the Hikari line, but he thought his ancestors were blind in missing the other curse that seemed to follow them like a miasma. There were no, so far as Satoshi could tell, Hikari members of the main line who had been fortunate in love.

If the Niwa had Dark as a curse of romantic love, the Hikari curse was that they would forever fall for the worst possible person.

Satoshi’s grandmother had fallen in love with a soldier gone off to war and chosen the then-risky operation to remove the roots of her love rather than suffocate a love that was impossible to confess. Satoshi’s mother had fallen for a man she met once, conceived Satoshi, and had died rather than remove the feelings shortly after Satoshi was born. The Hikari family archives were littered with stories about lovers who died tragically young, of loves never realized, and premature deaths from flower-choked lungs.

He’d made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t fall in love. If Satoshi didn’t love anyone, then Krad couldn’t gain as big a foothold in his soul. If he distanced himself from everyone, emotions couldn’t grow. Friendship would never root and there would be no chance that anything would blossom. He’d make his heart and soul a barren ground and he’d do better than his ancestors.

No giving life to art no matter how tempting. No giving into emotions. No letting Krad drain the magic and life from his veins in his pursuit of Dark.

Three rules. Three simple rules.

It should have been easy. Satoshi was no stranger to denying himself wants (or occasionally needs). He had the self-discipline to complete university at age thirteen; he had more than enough discipline to control his thoughts and feelings.

What he hadn’t accounted for was that not everyone would accept being held at a distance. That they wouldn’t give him a choice. That the very boy who was his enemy would offer a hand in friendship time and again no matter how Satoshi brushed him off.

He didn’t account for how too much denial made his mental walls brittle. Made him weak.

When Satoshi felt a tickle in his throat the day after the debacle with the lighthouse, he didn’t think much of it. He got sick easily and they had been out all night near the ocean.

But the cough didn’t go away and when he coughed up pale yellow specks and a perfectly shaped pink petal, his first thought wasn’t about confessing. His first thought was how long he had left until he died. Because there was only one person it could mean, and he could never bend to tell him how he felt.

In Satoshi’s head, Krad jeered about the frailty of human beings and the weaknesses of their emotions.

He could get a surgery tomorrow if he wanted to. Kei would sign off and it would nip the whole thing in the bud before it even had a chance to properly blossom.

But.

There was warmth in his chest wasn’t just the pain of the cough, and for the first time Satoshi understood why so many relatives had suffocated on their love. The feeling was simultaneously the best and worst thing he’d experienced. Like being split open and vulnerable but with the chance that something good might come out of all that pain.

It was a ridiculous thought. Nothing good could come from such a foolish, dangerous love. Satoshi was a Hikari and Daisuke was a Niwa. Dark’s tamer. It was an unbridgeable gap.

And he reminded himself this over and over as bits of flowers started to bloom in his chest. Bit by bit.

He should do something about it.

There was a certain sort of morbid curiosity though about what would kill him faster; Krad, his body’s frailty, or his own suffocating love. …He supposed he didn’t care much for living anyway.

o*O*o

Daisuke had flowers for Riku less than a month. Much like Risa’s they were small and white and left him coughing white petals into his hand. Much like Risa’s they went away the moment he confessed to her. Unlike Risa, she liked him back.

The weirdest thing out of all of it was that Dark never had a flower pass his lips. His feelings for Riku and for Risa didn’t bring out hanahaki the way they did for Daisuke, and when Dark was in control, they might as well have not been sick at all.

Maybe Dark didn’t have an ability to catch it like the Niwa did. Maybe being a work of art kept him from catching frail human diseases. Maybe Dark didn’t love the same way Daisuke did at all.

Either way, the petals dried on his tongue and the love bloomed healthily, the hanahaki fading from his chest.

Yet again, Daisuke hadn’t feared at all.

o*O*o

It was amazing what people failed to notice, Satoshi thought, breathing careful and slow to avoid aggravating his lungs and throat. No one noticed Daisuke’s odd behaviors, not as himself or when Dark took his body. They just accepted it as eccentricity. They didn’t notice the pale white flower petals he coughed into a handkerchief and later threw away. They didn’t notice the flowers end. And no one noticed Satoshi carefully control his breaths and coughs to keep them from disturbing anyone. They didn’t notice the yellow specks on his handkerchief and tongue or the pink petals that cropped up.

No one noticed the first specks of blood on his handkerchief either.

Satoshi looked at it dispassionately. The flower in his lungs had thorns. He’d coughed a leaf once, and little straight thorns had lined the underside. A kind of rose, he thought, and it was probably slowly tearing into him, roots and vines and thorns as it stubbornly tried to bloom no matter how barren he tried to make his heart. He couldn’t be lucky enough to have some finicky, delicate rose that could die at the slightest mistreatment. He’d ended up with a hearty wild thing that would choke him until he gave into its ache or it killed him trying.

His throat tasted faintly of blood a lot lately. He thought that his disease might be spreading faster than he had read it would, but his ancestor’s accounts varied wildly, so there wasn’t any clear way to tell how fast was normal for a Hikari or not.

Satoshi cleared his throat softly and felt the burn in his chest urging him to cough. His breath caught and he breathed through the pain. He needed to catch Dark. There were only so many more opportunities he would have.

He cleared his throat again and Daisuke glanced his way, a small worried frown on his face. Perhaps not everyone was blind to their surroundings.

o*O*o

If asked, Satoshi would say he was managing his hanahaki well. He got through every school day, managed his job chasing Dark—although with a bit less literal chasing—and still did research in his spare moments. He rarely had major coughing attacks, and while there was blood when he did, it remained tiny flecks. He was still functional. He still had a grip on Krad. How he _felt_ wasn’t important. It never had been. Satoshi had one purpose in life, and that was fix the mistake his family made with Dark and Krad or die trying.

No matter how much his step father liked to point out the extra goal of continuing the Hikari family line, it had never been a priority or even an objective to him.

But even Satoshi could admit that having hanahaki was impairing his ability to work toward his goal. Getting shoved into situations with Daisuke were only making his condition decline faster. (He was almost thankful that it had been Dark in Daisuke’s body for most of the Ice and Snow play rehearsals. Worse, almost grateful for Krad bursting free if only because for a moment he could breathe freely, even if the pain was no better than before.)

Things were coming to a head.

Satoshi sat on a bench. It was chilly but not too bad to sit outside. He should be watching Daisuke right now, but there were only so many hours he had patience to watch him go about his day while Satoshi’s breath burned more and more in his chest. Watching Daisuke from a distance always made the memory of Daisuke’s outstretched hand come to mind. If he took that hand, took the offer implied in that. The friendship and everything that went with it… Daisuke never once rescinded that offer.

He closed his eyes. He was so tired. Of all of it. He swallowed against the prickling feeling in his chest. In the back of his mind, Krad sneered at the feeling. He’d been pushing more the worse the feeling of the flowers got.

Satoshi pushed him back and down and breathed, breathed, breathed. His head felt wrong, like he was floating and dizzy.

He wished it was as simple as taking Daisuke’s hand. If it was, he’d take it in a heartbeat, change their fates and their enmity. He wished—his breath caught and stuck. He choked, coughed, clutching at his chest. The world spun and he crashed to the ground, struggling to breathe.

o*O*o

Satoshi woke somewhere warm and soft with voices speaking above him. ‘ _Ah,’_ he thought, _‘hospital.’_ And yet there wasn’t the sterile scent or the too cold air, no beeping of machines or IV drip hooked up to his arm. So not a hospital. He opened his eyes and almost laughed because of course. Of course it would be Daisuke who found him. Of course it would be Daisuke’s home that he woke up in with Daisuke having a furious whispered conversation with his mother a few meters away.

Satoshi blinked at them and then at the fluffy white creature he knew was Dark’s wings sitting close to his head. It stared at him through large red eyes, not showing one thing or another. He supposed he should be glad it didn’t attack him on principle. His chest and throat ached. When he tried to sit up, his breath caught and the world spun for a moment.

He must have made a sound because suddenly Daisuke was there, one hand steadying his shoulder and his face far too close, scrunched up with innocent concern.

“Satoshi,” Daisuke said. “You passed out at school and weren’t waking up. I didn’t know what to do and ended up carrying you home.”

“You should have called an ambulance,” Daisuke’s mother said, her emotions smoothed away into a dispassionate mask like she hadn’t been fiercely arguing with her son moments before. 

“I panicked,” Daisuke said, sending an irritated look over his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” Satoshi said, pulling back from Daisuke’s support and touch. His chest hurt.

Daisuke turned a frown on him. “You passed out.”

“I’m aware.”

“That’s not exactly fine.”

What could he say? That this happened? That he got sick easily in the first place? He looked past Daisuke at the room instead. It had to be Niwa’s bedroom, a scattering of personal items lying around and a work desk with the day’s homework laid out untouched on it. He saw cameras hidden carefully along the walls when he looked up, probably traps built in as well. This was a Niwa household, who knew what secrets it held. He was probably the first member of his family to set foot in one of their homes in generations. Perhaps the only one ever.

“I should go home. Thank you for your concern, but I can’t stay here.”

“You can’t just leave!” Daisuke said looking panicked. He put a hand on Satoshi’s forehead and Satoshi just. Didn’t. Breathe. “You don’t seem to be feverish right now, but you’re not okay! And you live alone…”

“You did collapse,” Daisuke’s mother said slowly. Niwa Emiko. Satoshi’s notes on her were far and few in between; his mother never met her. Still, she met his eyes in challenge and said, “You might as well stay for dinner.” There was something in that stare that made him feel cold. She knew, he was sure. She knew what was wrong with him and she didn’t like what she saw. But she was also going along with Daisuke’s wishes for some reason. She’d let him in here and was letting him stay for dinner.

This had to be some sort of cruel joke from the universe. Why? Why would they even show the slightest kindness toward him considering…? His chest ached, but so did his mind, Krad rousing slightly at the surge of his emotions.

Satoshi let his breath out slowly, pushing Daisuke’s hand aside.

“Please?” Daisuke said.

And Satoshi couldn’t deny him when he looked so earnest and concerned. Daisuke truly should only be concerned for himself.

“…Just for dinner,” he relented.

Emiko pasted a smile on her face. “You can rest in Daisuke’s room while I finish up dinner. Daisuke, why don’t you lend a hand?”

“Wait, but—” Emiko threw the door open, dragging Daisuke with her and leaving a dark-haired man who looked very similar to Daisuke standing awkwardly in the hall outside, a hand raised to knock.

“Ah,” the man, who based on appearance alone had to be Daisuke’s father. “It looks like they’re going to be busy.” He scratched sheepishly at the back of his head the way Daisuke did. But unlike Daisuke, there was something sharp in the glance he threw Satoshi’s direction like he was sizing him up.

Satoshi breathed as regularly as possible even though that close encounter with Daisuke had him aching to cough.

“Actually, could I speak with you a moment?”

Niwa Kosuke had married into the Niwa family. An art history student who had gone on to specialize in the Cultural Reform after becoming entangled with the Niwas. He had a few well received articles in the community, but Satoshi knew he was most likely the one researching and choosing a good percentage of Dark’s targets. There was always someone doing that in the Niwa line, and it certainly wasn’t Daisuke. He didn’t look like much, but neither did Daisuke; that was part of what made him dangerous.

“I’m Daisuke’s father,” Kosuke said, taking Satoshi’s non-answer as permission. He walked in and sat next to the bed and Satoshi, still struggling to breathe, didn’t have much choice in whether or not they had this conversation. “I’ve been wanting to see who this Satoshi Daisuke talks about.”

Daisuke talked about him? His breath caught, wetly, and he struggled to breathe through it.

Kosuke watched him with knowing eyes. “You know, sometimes your face looks very adult. Is that your face, or someone else’s?”

Satoshi’s hands closed into fists beneath Daisuke’s blanket. There was a pause, something heavy between them before Kosuke took another breath.

“I wasn’t born into the Niwa family,” Kosuke said, “So the feud between your family and them isn’t my business. But it gives me a different perspective than everyone in the middle of it. I don’t know where the things I see will lead, but I think you and Daisuke might just be close to a solution, more than anyone else.”

Satoshi wanted to leave. Now. Didn’t want to hear some man try to lay bare things that no one spoke of. There was no reason to speak of them because they couldn’t be changed. He took a breath. “I don’t—”

“I know,” Kosuke said, “I’m just a meddling adult, but I can’t stand seeing kids like you two suffer. Daisuke is always worrying—”

“Stop,” Satoshi said, the word choked as his throat threatened to block entirely.

Kosuke stopped, looked him over again. “You don’t have to accept what hurts you,” he said. “Even if—”

“Please stop,” Satoshi said again. “I don’t…know what you’re getting at.”

Kosuke sighed softly and gave Satoshi a sheepish little smile that was all Daisuke. “I see, well, thanks for letting me ramble then. Although… you should try to make a choice soon.”

“Pardon?”

“About your illness.”

Satoshi held very still and refused to cough. Refused to breathe wrong. It hurt.

Kosuke looked up and met his eyes, smile still friendly, but sadness in his eyes. “You’re nearing late stage hanahaki, correct? If you leave it much longer, you’re going to end up in the hospital or worse.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

There was pity there too. And kindness that stung worse than the pity. “I reached that stage myself when I was a little older than you. It feels like the end of the world, but I promise that it isn’t.”

Satoshi looked away. “Somehow I doubt it was ever that bad for you,” he said. For one, he doubted Niwa Emiko had been in a relationship at the time. And also wasn’t his enemy.

“Hmm,” Kosuke said. “Perhaps not, but everyone’s feelings are their own. Ah.” He reached into his pocket. “One more thing.” Kosuke held out two small objects, one a ring, and one a bottle. Satoshi, against his better judgment, let them be placed in his hand. “That ring has a seal on it that might help you. Dark used it once. It can suppress your…shadow. But only once.”

A ring that could hold Krad back? That was tremendously valuable. Where on earth could Kosuke have found something like that? Let alone feel comfortable giving it to him? “Where…?”

“You can find a lot of things if you poke around long enough. Including treasure,” Kosuke said with a mild-mannered smile.

“And the bottle?”

“That… It helped me once. Its contents can hold off hanahaki’s progress temporarily. It’s not a cure, and you can’t use it very long, but it helps.” He looked at the bottle with a mixture of warmth and sadness, like he was remembering something bittersweet. “I tried to put off dealing with it a lot longer than I should have.”

A bit more time… To what? Catch Dark? To feel himself slipping away even more as Krad tried to become him? Of watching Daisuke smile and offer hands of friendship Satoshi could never take? It was a gift, but it was just as much a curse.

“You know,” Kosuke said, “it wouldn’t be a bad thing to let Daisuke understand you. That sort of trust might be hard, but I truly think it’s possible that you can both shake off the chains of the past and make a brighter future.”

Did he mean Krad? A confession to Daisuke? Satoshi stared at the man and felt a pang of jealousy even as he was glad that, for Daisuke at least, this wouldn’t be a curse. He had someone on his side who would watch over him. Encourage him.

Kosuke gave a wave and stepped out. Satoshi clutched at his chest and tried not to choke. The bottle, something crystal and beautiful, surely an artwork in its own right, had liquid in it and a tiny dropper. Satoshi let a single drop fall on his tongue and it was bitter, horribly bitter, like poison. And like weed killer, he felt the flowers in his chest wither. Not gone, but weaker. Weak enough that he could take a breath. There was still blood on the back of his throat, blood on his tongue under the bitter taste. He wiped his mouth on a tissue from Daisuke’s desk and a single withered petal was crumpled in its mess.

A gift of time and agency. Daisuke was truly lucky to have a father like that.

Satoshi slipped the ring and bottle into his own pocket just before Daisuke came back into the room.

o*O*o

Emiko had never had hanahaki. She’d seen it in so many others, but she’d never had it herself. She had, before Kosuke, never been in love, and had only looked toward people who already were in love with her for potential romantic partners. She couldn’t have unrequited love in that setting. She hadn’t loved Kosuke when she first met him, and maybe it was a mercenary way of thinking, to only look for people who loved her, who could fulfill the requirement of a father for the next generation of a line of phantom thieves. But even if she hadn’t loved him at first, she’d grown to love him.

She didn’t know for sure if the Hikari boy was in love with her son, but he was in love with someone and it was killing him.

Emiko wouldn’t intervene with that. But Kosuke was kinder than her, and that was what had ultimately made her fall in love with him. He was kind and saw more than other people gave him credit for, so if he saw something in that boy, and Daisuke did as well… She wasn’t going to kick him out. She didn’t have to like it. But she’d feed him and let him spend a night under her roof. She just hoped her boys knew what they were getting into.

o*O*o

Satoshi was a fool. He should have left after dinner. Before dinner. Climbed out the window and fled. His heart was weak though, so he stayed. He ate food Niwa Emiko cooked, accepted what the rest of the family put on his plate, and let Daisuke cajole him into taking a bath and sleeping in his bed.

Not together. Thank goodness or he’d have died. Choked on flowers and died on the spot.

Satoshi had looked at Daisuke’s room with all the personal items that showed love and care and life. Looked at the painting he’d done and ached. “Daisuke, someday I’ll destroy you,” he’d said, heart feeling like it was going to burst, lungs burning, burning, and Daisuke had looked him in the eye and said back, “Not me! No matter what, we won’t be destroyed.”

Satoshi didn’t know what to do with that. With how certain Daisuke sounded or how it made Satoshi want to cry. Or maybe to reach out and bury his face in Daisuke’s hair and pretend he could believe him.

Instead he laid down in Daisuke’s bed that smelled like him and was warm and soft and waited until Daisuke was asleep to study his face. Defenseless and open. Peaceful. Things Satoshi never was nor could he ever be.

The vial Kosuke gave him held back the flowers just enough that he didn’t choke.

Krad stirred and for once he wasn’t full of anger. He was contemplative instead. Emotions were complicated things. For people like Satoshi and Daisuke, for Krad and Dark, one form’s emotions impacted the other’s. Even when those base emotions were so far apart, there was bleed over. For Satoshi, Krad’s rage. For Daisuke, Dark’s confidence. For Dark, Daisuke’s love. For Krad…

There was something simultaneously bitter and gentle as they watched Daisuke sleep. Satoshi wasn’t entirely sure where some of Krad’s feelings began and his own ended. “I never wanted to become deeply connected with you,” Krad said, voicing Satoshi’s words. “Daisuke, I always envied you.”

And yet he loved him too. Krad sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair from Daisuke’s face. “You have no idea what you do to him,” he said. “It would be kinder to kill you in your sleep.” But there was no violence in the words, no violence in his thoughts. No intent to harm there at all for once so Satoshi did nothing. Krad carefully shifted Daisuke to his bed with a tenderness that was Satoshi’s feelings, not his own.

A feather drifted free from his wings and they left it behind.

“You can’t go back now,” Krad said as they left through the bedroom window. “We can’t go on like this at all.”

Satoshi pushed that emotion down, all the emotions down, and Krad folded back away without fighting for once because Satoshi knew he was right.

There were flowers and thorns growing in his chest as he stood barefoot in his apartment bedroom, and there was no going back from this at all.

o*O*o

Dark never had hanahaki. He’d experienced it vicariously through his tamers, but roots had never grown in his lungs or flowers choked at his throat. He loved people. Loved girls his tamers loved, but it had always felt like a borrowed love. A lingering effect of the fact that they share a body. The love was there and then gone, just like Dark himself was.

It was different with Risa. Yes, Daisuke might have started loving Risa, but it hadn’t lasted, and Dark might have fallen for Riku first, but he hadn’t experienced this before, this divergent interest from his tamer.

He wasn’t sure if he liked it honestly. It felt wrong on a level he couldn’t explain, not that he ever would to Daisuke. They weren’t supposed to like different people. That wasn’t how it worked. But then Daisuke wasn’t supposed to go befriend a Hikari, and the Hikari wasn’t supposed to want to friend him back. It had to be driving Krad insane which would almost make Dark like the kid except for the whole, y’know, trying to catch/seal/kill him thing the Hikari had going on. Things were weird this time around.

Dark was pretty sure he really loved Risa, and he wondered if he could get hanahaki the way his tamers did. But even if he could, he wouldn’t get it with her. She loved him back and he’d known it from the start. It was Daisuke who had trouble. Daisuke who found himself coughing up petals and hadn’t even felt too worried beyond the ‘I’ve fallen in love with the other sister, how could I’ that Dark didn’t really blame him for being conflicted about. It was kind of an awkward situation if either of them stopped and thought about it too hard.

Thankfully Dark wasn’t usually one for introspection.

It was probably for the best that Dark would never have hanahaki. Maybe works of art couldn’t love that way in the first place.

o*O*o

Satoshi didn’t go back to school. It was a hard choice to make, but school kept pushing Daisuke closer and choking off what little time he had left Satoshi wasn’t even sure he wanted that time sometimes, but he knew that if he actually wanted to make any progress on figuring this curse out, he couldn’t keep watching Daisuke day in and day out.

He’d never realized how much he could miss someone he barely allowed himself to speak to.

Emotions were terrible cruel things. Like Pandora’s Box, once he let them out, all of them, the good and the bad, were overrunning his life. And like Pandora’s Box he hadn’t let out hope so he just felt more and more exhausted by it all.

Kei definitely knew something was up. Satoshi hid the flower petals, hid the vial Kosuke gave him, was very careful not to cough around him or use the blood-speckled handkerchiefs. It was only a matter of time though. Kei would confront him and try to get him to have the surgery. Late stage was a risky surgery. He could hear Kei’s words in his head without him needing to say them. “You have a duty, Satoshi. Don’t make the mistakes of your ancestors. Get that emotion dealt with and catch Dark.”

The truly scary thing was that Satoshi was starting to wonder if the hanahaki would keep choking him even if he did confess to Daisuke. It happened sometimes. No one was sure if it was because the person in love couldn’t accept the rejection or if they couldn’t let go of that love even after knowing it would always be hopeless.

 _“You’re a fool_ ,” Krad said in his mind. _“Just like so many Hikari before you.”_

Satoshi blocked Krad out with volumes of family history and art records. With research for something, god anything, to remove Dark from Daisuke without killing him. He was starting to think he’d have to make it himself. Nothing good would come from trying to make something like that himself.

 _“Ah yes_ ,” Krad said sarcastically. _“Kill yourself trying to save your foolish love. You’re all the same in the end. You try to feel nothing at all while feeling too much.”_

“Go away,” Satoshi said.

_“There’s the gun if you want to die so much.”_

Satoshi’s hands trembled on yellowed, crumbling pages. “No.” And that artwork was broken.

 _You can fix almost any Hikari art if you really want to,_ a voice that could have been Krad’s and could have been his own whispered. They were blurring more. Slowly becoming one person and Satoshi didn’t want that. He was terrified of becoming that. His great great grandfather had gone mad, Krad seeping into his mind until he’d almost killed his own wife as he lashed out at the world.

Dark went away for the Niwa line once romantic love was actualized. When someone chose the tamer over Dark.

It wasn’t that clear cut for the Hikari.

“You’re a disease,” Satoshi said to Krad. “I just haven’t found a way of getting rid of it yet.”

Krad simmered in the back of his mind and sent him a mental image of Daisuke, defiant and with his own blood-red wings as he defended Dark when Satoshi had sealed him in the mirror. That catalyst that started the end for real. Krad’s emotions were a mix of hatred and sick admiration. The sort of admiration that made butterfly collectors pin insects to boards. Satoshi sent back the memory later. Daisuke’s hand extended even though he was about to pass out. The compassion and kindness that act took. “ _Weak,_ ” Krad said.

 _“Strong,”_ Satoshi countered in his head. Those were both moments of strength. The strength to fight back and assert his emotions, and then the strength to be vulnerable and kind even though Daisuke had just been hurt. Satoshi wasn’t that strong. He was no stranger to being hurt, but he couldn’t keep reaching out the way Daisuke did. Asserting himself didn’t do much with Krad who sometimes just felt stronger.

The roses in his chest dug in their thorns and Krad’s disgust roiled through him at Satoshi’s resulting coughing fit. A whole, five-petaled pink rose, stem and little leaflets and thorns and all ripped its way out his throat. Satoshi stared at it a long time before crushing it between the pages of the book he’d been reading.

How cruel that hanahaki killed with something beautiful.

o*O*o

Argentine happened. Risa kidnapped and another Hikari artwork gone rogue that shouldn’t have had the strength to do so. Argentine in love with Qualia and broken, unable to fully process or express what he felt. Satoshi felt pity for him. Krad felt disgust.

Satoshi extended a hand to Daisuke with roses crowding the back of his throat and felt something like acceptance when Daisuke took it.

Satoshi probably wasn’t going to live to catch Dark, but maybe… Maybe he could make the best of this anyway. Satoshi didn’t want Daisuke to love him back anyway. Nothing good ever came for Hikari lovers. If he could have someone who understood even a little…

He had to sneak another drop of Kosuke’s potion to make it through the rescue effort. The potion was slowly killing him too. The comparison to poison that first time he tasted it hadn’t been too far from the truth. There were so many things he was slowly dying from now he didn’t even bother guessing which would kill him first anymore.

They saved Risa and Daisuke thanked him and Satoshi… Was it love? Hate? Fear or longing? He didn’t know but it gripped the roots in his chest and he didn’t have a choice about whether or not he could breathe through it. The coughing fit came and Satoshi spat out blood and pink petals and yellow pollen to Daisuke’s horrified expression.

“Satoshi…”

He’d hoped to hide it until the end. Satoshi smiled grimly, blood on his lips. “I’m fine.”

“Please tell me you’re going to confess. Please.”

Satoshi just kept smiling. There was an echoing ache in his chest as Daisuke looked more distressed. He took a step back, then another. “I’ll see you around,” Satoshi said.

He left with a sinking feeling in him, one part having a secret shoved to light, another the thought that Daisuke might not understand after all. Not the way Satoshi did what was going on with Dark and Krad. That hurt. It hurt like walking on broken glass. And Krad was there in those hurts, pressing himself into the wounds, using that pain to gain more ground.

What happened to keeping a soul barren of emotion?

Worst of all, Satoshi still loved Daisuke as much as ever. It hurt more, but the warm feeling he’d first realized was there in the center of that pain. Like a fire.

Fires, Satoshi thought, also hurt. He was the fool that kept letting it burn him.

o*O*o

There was no warning when Kei showed up. That was what visits from him were always like, but Satoshi had grown complacent lately with work as a go-between.

“You’re sick,” Kei said when Satoshi entered his own apartment. He stood over Satoshi’s kitchen trash bin, looking down at its contents with a neutral expression that told Satoshi more than one of his pleasant-fake smiles would. In the bin was an empty bottle of cough syrup, bloody tissues, and many odds and ends of flowers.

“You’ve stooped to going through my trash,” Satoshi said in return, just as neutral.

“Were you going to mention it at all?”

Satoshi met his gaze, silent.

Kei’s lips thinned in a displeased line. “I’ve scheduled an appointment to talk to a surgeon. You are attending it.”

“I don’t want to,” Satoshi said quietly.

“This isn’t about what you want,” Kei said. “It’s about what needs done. You’re too far gone to wait longer, and you haven’t done the obvious thing and cleared the problem the normal way.”

“It’s fine the way it is.”

“It’s killing you.” Kei’s stare was biting, cutting into him like it wanted to slice him open and dissect how his mind worked. “But I suppose for you, that is the point.”

Satoshi looked away.

Kei sighed like he was an unruly toddler instead of someone who had been caring for himself perfectly fine for years without his supervision. “However poetic an end you see this, it’s a waste. If you were a bit more proactive you would have caught Dark by now, but you’ve let these emotions take root instead. You have a duty to—“

“Maybe,” Satoshi bit out, “for once in my life it don’t want to think about that duty. Maybe I want to be fifteen and feeling something that is normal. Maybe I want—”

“To die?” Kei said suddenly looming over him. Satoshi took a step back. “Oh, Satoshi, I’m not going to let you die any sooner than is natural for you.”

“Hanahaki _is_ nat—”

“Curable. It’s curable,” Kei said over him, pushing him back a step, another until the wall was at his back. “This can be fixed and so can the problem of Dark. There just needs to be a few more sacrifices.”

Wasn’t it enough, what he’d given already? What all of them had?

“You can’t make me get the surgery,” Satoshi said.

“I can,” Kei said. “You aren’t in your right mind and I’m your guardian. I’m doing this to protect you.”

No, he was doing it because he needed Satoshi. Because Satoshi was the last of the main Hikari bloodline and the last of Krad’s tamers. Adopting Satoshi had opened doors to the Hikari archives that Kei never would have seen otherwise. He could never believe that Kei would act altruistically when Satoshi was concerned.

“You’re going,” Kei repeated. “As for hunting Dark… I’ve let you try your methods. Going forward, you’ll be using mine.”

Satoshi felt cold. Kei cared much much less about the safety of Dark’s tamer. “Don’t,” Satoshi said, regretting the moment the word slipped past his lips.

Kei patted his shoulder in a way that felt condescending. “Get the surgery,” he said, “and we’ll talk after.”

If he got the surgery, he wouldn’t care about Daisuke at all anymore. He’d feel nothing. Krad would probably override everything. But Kei probably knew that. He probably guessed who made love bloom in him in the first place. This was a warning and a punishment.

“Or get rid of it the old fashioned way,” Kei continued. “If you can. Either way you’re going to that appointment.” He moved away and Satoshi remained frozen against the wall as Kei let himself out without so much as a goodbye.

In his head, Krad laughed, a wild sort of rage simmering in him eager to have a crack at Kei’s methods. Satoshi slid to the ground and gripped his hair. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t let either of them.

o*O*o

The hanahaki specialist’s office was strangely cheerful. It might have something to do with all the charts of flower species, which were actually rather depressing if Satoshi lingered on the thought of them, but it was much brighter than most doctor’s offices he’d been to. The doctor herself was a calm, middle aged woman who seemed perfectly content to ignore Kei’s presence in the corner and focus entirely on Satoshi himself.

“Well,” she said, looking over the symptom sheet Satoshi had filled out in the waiting room with Kei watching him like he thought he’d run, “it looks like most of your symptoms are edging toward late stage hanahaki. You’ve had symptoms for over six months?”

“Correct.”

“Hmm. May I take a look at your throat, please?”

Satoshi obediently opened his mouth and let her shine a light down his throat.

“Every case progresses at its own rate, but your throat is worse than expected even with your late stage symptoms. Your flower, did you determine its species?”

“It’s a rose,” Satoshi said, pulling out the sample he’d been told to bring. “I never bothered to look up the variety.”

“A rose?” The doctor looked up sharply.

Satoshi blinked at her sudden increase in intensity, but handed over the sample. “It didn’t look like a domesticated one.”

The crease in her eyebrows went deeper. “I see. This does look like a wilder variety.” It had five simple pink petals and a bright yellow center, a branching stem with bedraggled leaves and a myriad of small, straight thorns. His chest and throat burned at the memory of coughing it up. “Typically with roses, we hope that they’ll be domestic ones. They’re less hardy.” She looked up at him. “They also tend to be cases we hope to see here early on because plants with thorns are much more dangerous even at an early stage than soft-stemmed flowers. I’m surprised you aren’t worse.”

Satoshi knew without a doubt that he had Kosuke to thank for that.

“Roses, especially wild ones, are riskier procedures too,” the doctor continued solemnly. “Between the hardy rootstock and the thorns, there’s risk of permanent damage even in a middle stage operation let alone a late stage one. You should have been in here months ago.”

“He’s been hiding his symptoms,” Kei said from his corner, “or I’d have made him come sooner.”

The doctor didn’t even look his direction. “I’m going to have to ask that I speak to my patient alone for a moment, if you would.”

Kei lifted a brow. Satoshi could see the thought about arguing cross Kei’s face before he decided it wasn’t worth it. “I’ll wait outside then.”

The doctor waited until Kei shut the door before she spoke. “I like to hear in my patient’s own words why they chose to come or wait,” she said. “You’re not the first person to hide their symptoms from a guardian, and you won’t be the last. I want a better understanding of the situation before I advise you on anything.”

“Is it really necessary?” Satoshi asked.

The doctor smiled. “You’d think not. But hanahaki is both a physical and a mental disease. I’ve found that in curing it, you need to understand the patient’s mind as well as the symptoms of their body. For example…” She took Satoshi’s sample and pulled a book from under the preparation counter. “Hanahaki is a phenomenon that’s been studied for as long as humans have been experiencing it. And through the years there have been documented trends. Certain flowers show up in certain situations. You’d think it would be a flower that fit the person who is sick, or that best suits their love, but in practice it is a great deal more about how that person feels about their own emotions and the person they’ve fallen for than any straightforward symbolism.”

“I can’t see how it’s important why one flower was chosen over another. It’s the same end result.”

“It can determine how likely it is to kill you,” the doctor said. “For example, how long do you think someone who had belladonna growing in their lungs would live? When I wasn’t much older than you, I fell in love with my pen pal and had irises growing in me. Very pretty flower, also poisonous coincidentally. If I hadn't decided to get the surgery early on, it would have poisoned me before it suffocated me.”

“That has nothing to do with the emotions though,” Satoshi pointed out.

“No, it doesn’t,” the doctor said with a smile. She flipped through images, comparing Satoshi’s flower to them. “Yours… A Carolina rose. Native to North America.”

“And?”

“And I can tell from previous people who’ve had this flower that you view the emotion of love as dangerous, at least in this situation.” Satoshi felt deeply uncomfortable. The doctor folded her hands in her lap, looking at Satoshi attentively. “Please, help me understand the situation.”

He didn’t want to talk to this woman, didn’t even want to be here. He hated being vulnerable, but she’d already seen a large part of how he was feeling just by looking at his flower. “This is only between the two of us?” he asked finally.

“Of course. If I planned to tell your guardian I wouldn’t have kicked him out. Anything said here will remain between the two of us.”

Krad snarled about people interfering where they didn’t belong, but Satoshi ignored him. He could lay out the facts and that would be that. “I didn’t want to fall in love with anyone. Attachments have never brought anything good in my life. So naturally when I did fall in love with someone, it was the worst possible person to have feelings for.”

“In what way?”

Satoshi stared her down and she didn’t even flinch. “A person in feud with my family,” he finally relented.

“And this person dislikes you for your family?”

“No.” Satoshi could almost laugh. “No, they want to be friends.”

“So you’re worried about how your family would react?”

“I know how he would react.” It would be just as uncompromising as being forced to come here.

“And you don’t feel that sharing your feelings with this person would work out well. Is it the thought of rejection?” The doctor’s head tipped to the side, infinitely patient with how little Satoshi was expanding on anything.

“That’s not the problem. I know I would be rejected. This person is already in a relationship.” And it was stupid to feel anything about that fact. If Daisuke wasn’t in a relationship, nothing would change. He still wouldn’t feel anything for Satoshi other than friendship.

“And you’re worried that confessing would complicate things?”

“No. My feelings wouldn’t change theirs. I don’t want them to feel guilty though.”

“And do you think that there would be trouble for this person if their family learned about your feelings?”

“Why would they care? It wouldn’t make them dislike me anymore than they already do. The trouble is me.” He hadn’t meant to say that last part.

The doctor sighed. Her fingers tapped her leg, one-two-three, just once. “If you were less far along, I’d recommend a support group to work through accepting what you’re feeling, but you’re too far along for that to help. But Hiwatari-san, what you are feeling, for whoever this person is, is not wrong. Emotions are just emotions.”

Emotions weren’t just emotions though. They were fuel for Krad, and they meant he was slowly losing himself. He said nothing.

“Hiwatari-san,” the doctor said, taking a different track, “this person is your friend, correct? Or they view you as one?”

“Yes.”

“If you came in here a few months, or even a few weeks ago, I’d advise getting your surgery as soon as possible. But with your flower type and as far along as you are, this would be a very risky procedure. However,” she said sitting a bit straighter as if that would convey the severity of the situation, “the most effective method for curing still remains resolution for your emotions. Talking to your friend and accepting whatever outcome the conversation holds is the least dangerous method at this point. You’ve avoided it because of family history between you both and—excuse me if I’m reading this wrong—because you see your feelings as a failing in yourself. But it remains that if you continue to do nothing, you will die.”

“I know that.”

There wasn’t any judgment in her eyes, not like there would be from Kei, and no pity like Daisuke would have for him. There was sadness, but she was someone who dealt with hanahaki on a regular basis. There had to be plenty of people who’d consulted her and ended up dying from inaction.

“I advise you to talk to your friend. If they care about you like you seem to believe they do, they’ll accept what you tell them even if they may not reciprocate.”

Sure, tell Daisuke and potentially have Krad try to kill him in the process because Satoshi would be focusing on those emotions with their target right there. “And if I can’t find acceptance even after that?”

“Then you attempt the surgery. I would put it at a seventy-five percent success rate if we operated in the next week. Past that, the chances of properly removing it go down exponentially.”

A week. Kei would demand to know the time frame and probably schedule something as soon as they left. Satoshi took a breath, felt it burn like all breaths did lately.

“Thank you for the assessment,” Satoshi finally managed to say. How many people that came here came back? How many cured themselves naturally versus a surgery?

“I hope you take it to heart,” the doctor said.

Satoshi gave her a curt nod. She stood and moved to the door.

“I’ll let you talk to your guardian, and come back around to answer any questions you might have in a few minutes. You can schedule a follow up at the front desk.”

Satoshi gave another bland thanks and felt hollow inside. When Kei came back, he told him as little as possible, but Kei asked the doctor questions when she returned. She didn’t once give any indication about what he told her in confidence. It likely didn’t matter though. Given enough time, Kei would figure it out on his own anyway. There weren’t many people Satoshi spent time with in the first place.

They left with a follow up scheduled and resounding silence between them.

o*O*o

He hadn’t talked to Daisuke since Risa’s rescue. A dumb part of Satoshi had hoped that would help something, but considering it was two days past the doctor appointment and Krad was restless in his mind, it hadn’t mattered. Distance and time were doing very little in helping the situation, even if they weren’t making it necessarily worse.

Satoshi rolled the vial Kosuke had given him between his fingers. It didn’t get any less full with use. It was definitely magic, but he could tell he was nearing the end of time he could use it. There was something about how it tasted, something about how he felt afterward that warned him, like grains of sand falling bit by bit into an hourglass in his mind. One the one hand, he was forcibly having a surgery in less than a week that would either kill him in the process or leave him without the warm-painful sensation thinking of Daisuke brought. On the other, he ran and died from the disease in his lungs.

Or he talked to Daisuke and hoped for closure.

The tickle in his throat was impossible to resist, flaring up to fiery pain the second he let himself cough. Blood and petals. Nothing fully formed at the moment, but it left his breathing wet and raspy and Satoshi leaning against his kitchen counter feeling exhausted even though it was only morning. It was harder to sleep when laying down felt like suffocating lately.

There was a scuffling sound, something he almost missed with the heavy sound of his own breathing, but he looked up to see a familiar lizard looking at him.

“Oh,” Argentine said. “That looks bad.”

Yes, blood-flecked flower petals and a mix of blood and spittle on his face and hands was certainly not a healthy look, but it didn’t explain why Argentine was there at all.

“Where did you come from?” he rasped.

“Under your door,” Argentine said, answering the literal question instead of what he meant.

“Why?”

“Master Daisuke was worried about how you felt.” A tilted head and blank eyed stare. “Rightfully.”

Another cough rattled in his chest. Satoshi rested his head on the counter as it left black spots flashing across his vision. Damn it all, why did he have to fall for someone _kind?_

“Oh dear,” Argentine said emotionlessly.

Satoshi sent him a glare even as his chest kept stubbornly spasming.

“I suppose I have my answer.” The lizard crawled back toward the door.

“W-haa—it!” Satoshi wheezed. Argentine was gone. Dammit. He couldn’t do much about it through, just slide to the kitchen floor and focus on getting his breathing back to something of a normal. His mouth tasted like blood and bitter-sweet rose petals. If he ever smelled or tasted the things again if he survived this, he would probably throw up.

Well. That went wonderfully. Argentine would report back that, what? Satoshi was coughing blood and flowers? Well, Daisuke already knew he had hanahaki. Satoshi could probably expect a frantic phone call in the future.

…Or his door could suddenly slam open as a frantic Daisuke let himself in, lock pick still visible in one hand. “Satoshi!”

Satoshi stared at him dumbly. He had lost a bit of time focused on his body, but he didn’t think it was enough time for Argentine to return to Daisuke’s home and Daisuke to run here. Which meant Daisuke had been nearby waiting for a response.

Daisuke froze at the sight of blood streaking the counter, Satoshi’s hands and his face. “Oh my god.”

“It looks… worse th—ahn… it is,” Satoshi got out around a stray cough. A pink petal clung to his lip. He was too tired to wipe it off. Besides, it wasn’t like he had any dignity left at the moment.

“Satoshi, you should be in a hospital,” Daisuke said, suddenly in his face and frantic, wiping blood from his face.

Satoshi jerked back, banging into the sink cupboard. The place Daisuke touched felt like it was burning. His lungs were burning. Everything hurt and Daisuke was there and _caring_ and he never asked for this. He wanted to freeze off feelings and get through his goal to catch Dark, and maybe didn’t care about anything that happened after that. He couldn’t handle this.

He coughed again as his lungs seemed to heave, flowers suddenly blocking his throat. Thorns dragging and scraping. He heaved, heaved again, barely conscious of Daisuke’s arms supporting him as he finally got air enough around the obstruction to cough and expel it out. Six mostly-formed roses fell in clumps of two from his lips, catching on his tongue and gums and lips. They looked more red than pink. “Why,” he said as he could finally drag air for words, “are you… _here?_ ”

“Oh my god, are you dying? Oh no, oh no, I should call an ambulance, oh gosh—” Frantic hands on his shoulder, arm, neck, face, flitting like butterflies.

“ _Daisuke,”_ Satoshi said, more of a hissing wail of a desperate man than a spoken word. “Why?”

There were tears in Daisuke’s eyes and a bit of blood smeared on Daisuke’s face, probably from Satoshi flailing as he tried to breathe. He looked scared, horrified. Satoshi had tears of his own on his face and he didn’t know when he started crying because pain hadn’t been enough to make him do that in years. Maybe it was just the way he was feeling too much of everything all at once and he just wanted it to stop.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I wanted to make sure you were okay, you’re not okay, what do I need to do to make you okay?” Daisuke babbled, gripping Satoshi’s shoulders like a lifeline. Not giving him a chance to really answer, Daisuke kept talking. “You need to fix this, get the surgery or… or something. Who, who is it so you can tell them, please, I don’t want you to die!”

And Satoshi’s tears came harder along with that struggling feeling of Krad rising, in part because they werere hurt and because Satoshi’s emotions were right there and vulnerably exploitable. He clutched his chest, trying to breathe, to keep it all down, Krad, the flowers, the emotions, but there was too much. It was like trying to cup water in his hands, it just kept draining free no matter how hard he tried to stop it. “Can’t—”

“You can! You’re _dying_ you can still fix this—!”

“You’re part of the problem!” Satoshi tried to say, but it came out sounding more like “Yera-plem.”

“I don’t know what that means!”

“Oh,” Argentine cut in, in human form behind Daisuke. “Is he actually dying?”

If this wasn’t happening to him, Satoshi would probably have found all of this at least mildly amusing. But it was happening to him so it was just distressing. He made an inarticulate sound and clamped down on Krad in his mind because forget dying, Krad escaping would be the worst scenario.

“Oh no, he’s not responding!” Daisuke shook him slightly. “Satoshi! Argentine, get the phone and call 119!”

Satoshi grit his teeth. Could they be quiet for two seconds so he could get back in control? Daisuke was a terrible emergency first-responder.

“Satoshi don’t die!”

Why did he even love him? Oh, right, because he was the only one who would care enough to check in on him and cry over finding him covered in blood. Satoshi grimaced up at Daisuke’s tear-stained face and felt something in him break. This was such a mess. “Sorry,” he choked. It would be awfully poetic if he died like this. Like one of his ancestor’s disastrous lives forever immortalized in their journals, just one more beautifully tragic moment to end a family’s legacy. It didn’t get much more poetic than dying in the arms of someone you loved.

“Don’t say that,” Daisuke protested.

Krad still struggled under his skin, but it was strangely easy to hold him back all of a sudden. Everything hurt, but Satoshi also contrarily just felt warm. Daisue was here. He wasn’t actually dying, he didn’t think, but it felt like in that moment it would actually matter in some way if he lived or died. To Daisuke, it mattered. It was like a revelation. Not Satoshi the last Hikari, not Satoshi the police officer, not Satoshi-Krad’s-tamer, but Satoshi the person he was under all those duties was someone that mattered to Daisuke. Not for what he was or what he could do. Just for being himself.

It wasn’t deserved and he certainly hadn’t asked for it any more than he’d asked to fall in love with Daisuke but it made Daisuke mean all the more to him as well. Maybe that was what gave him the courage to forget about all the reasons he shouldn’t say anything and let the confession fall shaky from his lips. “I love you.”

Satoshi was crying again, blood and tears and snot making it all the harder to breathe. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

“Wh-what?”

Inside, Krad was furious with him for saying it, but it was still strangely easy to keep him back.

Petals fell from Satoshi’s lips, a wheeze of breath as he laughed weakly. “Who else could it be, Daisuke?” Where was he getting the air for these words? “I’ve been in love with you since the Towa no Shirube.”

Daisuke stared down at him wide eyed, arms tight around Satoshi’s shoulders. He was so warm. Satoshi clutched the hem of Daisuke’s shirt, the closest thing to hold onto. “You… but…”

“I didn’t mean to. I… I shouldn’t. I’m sorry.” His throat felt like he’d swallowed glass. He couldn’t look at Daisuke’s face.

Those warm hands gripped tighter before he’s suddenly crushed to Daisuke’s chest. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Daisuke said, sounding like he was crying again. “All this time…”

Satoshi had half expected to be dropped or pushed away, but of course he wasn’t. This was Daisuke. This was Daisuke and he was kind.

“You could have died!”

Satoshi wanted to point out that he could still die, but it felt overwhelmingly nice to be held.

“It’s not worth dying for. Even if I can’t… There’s always someone out there. It’s not worth it.”

Satoshi laughed, once, it hurt too much to do it again. “You’re my first friend. You’re the only person who’s made me feel anything good in years. I only felt anything because you wouldn’t let me shut you out. I’m… I can’t. I can’t trust people like you do.”

Daisuke made a helpless, sad sound and held him tighter.

“I don’t want to feel anything. It’s so much easier not to.”

“Why didn’t you get the surgery?” Daisuke asked. His voice vibrated against Satoshi’s cheek.

“And be left with all the negative emotions and nothing good?” Satoshi almost laughed again, the memory of main the only thing keeping him from doing it. “I’d rather die.”

“Don’t say that!”

“I’m going to die young anyway. No one with Krad has ever lived past thirty.” Might as well die feeling something and of his own mind.

Daisuke’s hold went iron-band tight. Satoshi would probably end up with bruises from his fingers. There was a long silence that Satoshi couldn’t interpret. Or maybe it was only a silence on his end. Daisuke could ask Dark anything.

“Daisuke?”

“No.”

Satoshi blinked as Daisuke pulled him up so he could look him in the eye. His eyes were puffy and red and Satoshi had stained his shirt. Still, Daisuke had a fierce look of determination on his face.

“No,” Daisuke said again. “You’re going to live. I might not be in love with you romantically, but Satoshi, you’re an important friend to me. You’re going to live and find a way to be happy. Even if I have to help you seal Krad myself.”

The idea of Daisuke being capable of doing that was ridiculous. He didn’t even have any idea what Dark was or how he was affecting him let alone how Krad worked. But the way he said it almost made Satoshi believe it was possible. “You can’t seal Krad without sealing Dark.” Not permanently.

“We’ll find a way.” Daisuke smiled tremulously. “…Satoshi, how are you feeling?”

Satoshi blinked. He felt like a mess. He hurt all over, his throat was raw and aching, he couldn’t breathe through his nose—he could breathe better than he could this morning. Not perfectly, but so much better than he had anytime recently unless he took one of Kosuke’s potion drops. Satoshi blinked again and felt his throat.

“Your flowers, are they wilting?” Daisuke asked.

“I… I don’t know.” The love was still there, still unrequited. But. But Daisuke cared for him. Not the same way. But he cared and Satoshi had finally admitted out loud how he felt. It didn’t hurt as badly as it had all bottled up inside.

Outside there were sirens suddenly blaring and they both jumped and turned toward the door as they definitely stopped outside. Daisuke turned toward Argentine who still had a phone to his ear.

“Oh, I think they’re done crying on each other,” Argentine said in a monotone into the receiver. “He’s probably not going to die.”

“Argentine,” Daisuke said, somewhere between grateful and annoyed.

“You told me to call an ambulance,” Argentine said calmly. He looked at Satoshi. “Love isn’t supposed to hurt you like that. Are all humans this broken?”

“It’s a thing that happens sometimes,” Daisuke said. “But we’re going to be okay. Right?” he asked Satoshi, a little too anxiously.

Satoshi looked back, lost. Were they? But he wasn’t coughing up flowers right this moment and Daisuke was still holding him and warm. So they were better than they had been before. That was more than Satoshi could have hoped for. He nodded and Daisuke looked so relieved that he knew he’d given the right answer for Daisuke’s sake at least, even if it wasn’t wholly true.

The paramedics walked through the open door; Daisuke had never actually closed it behind him when he burst in. They took one look at the blood and flower petals and two red-eyed teenagers and took control of the situation. The flowers might not be choking him, but Satoshi’s throat was still bad enough that they wanted him to go to the hospital anyway. It was a pleasant surprise that Daisuke went with him, refusing to let go of his hand at all.

And Krad was still not breaking free.

For such a painful, exhausting morning, Satoshi supposed it was actually a pretty good day.

o*O*o

“Well,” his doctor said, “the good news is that your flowers are wilting. It’s too soon to say if the roots will wilt as well, but so long as you keep in the same mindset as you have been, I’m optimistic that it’ll be a complete cure.” She smiled. “I’m glad you were able to talk to your friend.”

Satoshi looked off to one side, a bit too embarrassed to be properly attentive. He hadn’t really thought he’d have another conversation with the hanahaki doctor. After all, it wasn’t like she had to talk to him to operate. But since the operation was no longer on the table…

“Your friend seems like a good kid,” she added. She’d briefly met Daisuke, who hadn’t left Satoshi’s side at the hospital until the doctors shooed him away to do a more in depth test and have his actual hanahaki doctor look him over.

Thankfully he’d left before Kei showed up. Kei had also left as soon as he was sure Satoshi wasn’t immediately dying, promising they’d have a talk later. Satoshi had to figure a way around that.

Satoshi squirmed, but there wasn’t really anywhere to go, not while he was hooked up to machines and drips. He hated hospitals. “He’s… kind,” Satoshi mumbled.

She nodded like he said a lot more than that. “As I said last time we met, hanahaki is as much a mental disease as a physical one, so try to hold on to the feelings of resolution and whatever else you’re feeling. It will help everything clear up quickly.”

“He doesn’t love me back romantically,” Satoshi found himself sharing, perhaps at the novelty that he both had emotions to work through and an adult who seemed to be trustworthy not to use them against him. “I knew he wouldn’t love me the same way I love him.”

“But?” the doctor prompted gently when he went silent.

“He cares for me platonically. Which… is more than I ever let myself hope for.” He could still feel Daisuke’s warm arms around him and see the raw emotion in his face.

“A good friend, then.”

Satoshi nodded.

“I’m glad. Now I do have to say there are some complications.” Satoshi sighed. Of course there were. He rubbed his throat absently. It still hurt like hell. “Yes, that,” the doctor said, catching the motion. “Even though the flowers are withering, they did still leave a good deal of damage to your throat and some upper parts of your lungs. I have a few medications that will prevent infections and promote those areas to heal, but you have to be aware that some parts of your lungs might never be as strong as they were before. Plants with thorns are vicious on their bearers.”

Satoshi laughed drily and winced when it felt like glass. Right, still no laughing.

“Well,” the doctor said, equally dry, “you would know that firsthand.” She set aside the chart. “I’ll have them fill your scripts. You shouldn’t have to stay overnight, but they might keep you for observation just because of the amount of damage to your throat.”

“Thank you,” Satoshi said.

“Keep working toward feeling better,” the doctor said, smiling. “I’m sure you have that full recovery in you.”

Full recovery. Satoshi wasn’t sure, but it was easy to be optimistic at the moment. Reality was sure to crash back down eventually, but until then he felt the most content he’d ever been considering he was in a hospital.

He could truly almost believe that one day they could do it. Seal away Krad and let Satoshi live life freely for the first time. There were dozens of reasons why it wouldn’t work, maybe hundreds, but without Kei or Krad right in his face at the moment with talk of duty and animosity… Daisuke’s conviction weighed more. And maybe some part of him wanted to keep living to see that future.

o*O*o

The conversation with Kei did eventually happen. But technically Kei couldn’t complain because Satoshi had ‘taken care of the problem’ like he wanted and by some miracle Kei still didn’t know that it was Niwa Daisuke that was the center of the whole thing. Who knew how long that luck would last. For a little bit longer at least, Satoshi was holding back Kei’s methods. Maybe with a bit more luck, he and Daisuke could make progress before Kei made his move.

Satoshi tended to be a pessimist at worst and a realist at best, but he was choosing to try to be cautiously optimistic this time.

o*O*o

Satoshi wasn’t sure how to feel, being in the Niwa family home again. Last time had been an incredibly stressful time and he’d been literally dying. This time was still stressful, but a different sort of stress.

“How’s your breathing?” Daisuke said at the door, one hand on Satoshi’s arm. “You’ve been taking your medicine?”

“It’s fine, and yes, I’ve taken my medicine. I’m fine.” It was a relief that Daisuke wasn’t flinching away from him or treating him strangely now that he knew. It was concern, the same concern he usually showed toward Satoshi, perhaps a bit more smothering, but he’d seen Satoshi at his worst so it was to be expected.

“Good.” Daisuke pulled him past an entryway that showed signs of traps all over, all currently not active. He’d been asleep last time and hadn’t left through the door. It looked like Daisuke had training in every moment of his home life if this hall was any indication. “Mom said we could use the study.”

“I’m surprised she’s letting me in the house let alone in the study.”

Daisuke shrugged. “Dad talked her around.”

“Ah.” The house was nice. Rich, but of course it was with the Niwa living off generations of stolen goods. They probably didn’t even have day jobs. He smiled wryly to himself. It should bother him more than it did on a moral level, but at their core, their families were equally corrupt. He was learning to make peace with it, especially since he’d seen in Towa and Argentine how Hikari artworks could thrive under Niwa care where before they had fallen to neglect. Daisuke let them into a room filled with old, carefully maintained books, and odds and ends that weren’t Hikari art, but were old and valuable artefacts.

Daisuke waved a hand at a desk with two seats. “Go sit down, I’ll go get some tea for while we work.”

Satoshi sat. There was a wave of fond exasperation in him when Daisuke waited to see that he was comfortable before leaving, but that was fine. It wasn’t the all-consuming love and pain of before. That love was still there, but it was settling into something less painful. It would probably always be there, but he felt like he might one day make peace with that instead of the emotion choking him from the inside. His doctor had been a great help with that.

A soft rap of knuckles on a door frame caught his attention and he turned to see Kosuke’s sheepish smile poking around the door. “Mind if I say hello?” he asked.

“It’s your home,” Satoshi pointed out.

Kosuke’s smile widened. “So it is.” He slid into the chair across from Satoshi. “You look better than the last time I saw you.”

“I’m no longer dying,” Satoshi said with dry humor. “Or I suppose not as quickly.” He pulled a little crystal vial from his pocket, held it out. “Thank you, by the way. I don’t think I would have made it this long without your help.”

Kosuke took the bottle, holding it so the light caught it and left glittering squares of brightness across the desk. “You might have,” he said optimistically. “Either way, you’re still here.”

“I am.” He wasn’t quite at peace with that but he was getting closer to it.

“Have you thought any more about what I said back then?” Kosuke asked.

“Would I be here if I hadn’t?” Kosuke had wanted him to work with Daisuke and put their trust in each other. He was here now, doing just that.

“Maybe.” He smiled. “I’m glad you changed your mind.”

Satoshi hummed. “I still am not convinced we can do it. But we’ll probably have a better chance by pooling resources than alone. And…”

“And?”

“None of us have thought to try before.” Understandable considering the enmity. And Krad. Krad was not happy at all, and some of that bleed over was making Satoshi feel more easily irritated by small things. But Krad was getting bleed over too and feeling far less lethal toward the Niwas because of it. “There still isn’t much time but… perhaps this will work. It’s not as if I got very far alone.” When everything was working against him it was pretty hard to achieve anything.

“I’ll lend my help however I can,” Kosuke offered.

“We’ll have to see about negotiating access to some of the Hikari documents.” He wasn’t about to let someone run around in his family’s private information unsupervised, but another set of eyes would be welcome.

“The same for us.” They shared a smile, both calculating the others’ probability of misusing information no doubt. It was a risk for both of their families as much as it was an opportunity.

There was still a chance that Satoshi wouldn’t live to see Krad or Dark sealed away, or that Krad would leech into his mind until he couldn’t recognize himself before they managed to fix anything. This could blow up in their faces and kill all of them because magic and curses were volatile things, and art with souls even more unpredictable. He would worry about that when the time came.

For now, Daisuke returned with tea and another determined expression. And Satoshi took a breath of floral steam without blood or bitterness on his tongue. For now they worked together to maybe put the feud to rest for good.

For now, Satoshi did not regret.

**Author's Note:**

> I used Victorian flower language for the flowers because why not? Flower meanings taken from[ here ](https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/12SK10SXQWj4lhpkPG9tYbDK69x1JuuZ1ldl8Kh7Z9C8/edit#gid=0)  
> For anyone curious, Daisuke's flowers For Risa and Riku are : Alyssum for Risa (worth beyond beauty) and Angelica for Riku (inspiration)  
> Satoshi's flower, as shown in story is a Carolina Rose, which is "love is dangerous" according to my source (Meaning both how Satoshi feels about love and indicative that Daisuke is a dangerous person for him to love)  
> Kosuke's flower for Emiko was Motherwort which, while being ironic since Emiko's dream was to be the mother of the next phantom thief Dark, means "concealed love," as Kosuke initially hid his identity when leaving tokens of affection toward her.
> 
> I like flower language.
> 
> Played with the thought of making it requited love when planning it, but this wasn't the fic to do it and in the end I wasn't in the headspace to write actually romance, just project emotional angst. So. Hope you like it despite the sad...
> 
> ALSO HI, THIS NOW HAS [ FANART. ](https://fugitivehues.tumblr.com/post/615515693657489408/breathless-inspired-by-lisatelramors-amazing)GO GIVE FUGITIVEHUES YOUR LOVE BECAUSE THEIR ART IS AMAZING


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